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therealslimshakespeare · 3 months ago

Text

|| Radio ||

Requested plot points? ☑️

Circa: early February 1944

Immediate previous fic: Favorite Escape

Summary: when your hodge podge radio won’t work, who should ya call? Probably the flight engineer

Warnings: usual universe warnings apply, 18+ but nothing very alarming really happens in this one, references to others are made, some potential slut shaming in the beginning if ya squint? perhaps some queer baiting but it’s the Buckies rolling around on the flooor, they’re one massive queer bait lbr, it’s not me. Also. My shit Crystal Radio making descriptions- don’t come for me I haven’t made one and I spent five hours falling down a rabbit hole as to how the guys made them in the camps and at the end of the day I said: screw it! And went with one of the Brit’s scenarios 🍻

Edited only by my tired little eyes, full warning and have mercy 💋

Also, just a note I feel compelled to make- this fic centers around women in the army, in a war, which they’re spending under dire conditions in a POW camp. Yes there is love here, there is also hierarchy and discipline and the enforcement of that does not make one character or another necessarily callous or less loving. They are their ranks first and foremost as all signed up for.

“They’re forging papers, you know.” Maureen broached the topic to Egan one day, late February and when her cheeks were still bruised from Ida’s book.

Bucky paused his tracing of a map, sooty finger trailing along a river with the same incomprehensible name as its twin running parallel, he didn’t know anything about papers or anyone making them and she knew that. “Who?”

“Good ones. Identification, passports.” She enumerated.

“Who?”

“The Poles. The ones with the-“

“-the liquor.” he finished for her, remembrance and condemnation heavy in his wry tone. “The ones you stayed out all night with.”

“Stayed long enough for them to get drunk enough to show me.”she replied, without heat, which was surprising.

“Some grand plan of yours, huh?” He bit back a laugh, it was a fine way to cover her ass for being insubordinate. It was a way he’d likely try if he was in her place.

“No.” she swore instead. “Just luck, I happened to see them. They got careless. Maybe an answer to all Jack’s prayers.”

“Yeah. Anything to give that rosary a break.”

“Yeah.”

“You asked them?”

“What for?”

Bucky regarded her with thinning patience but something kept him from snapping, the feeling of a riddle still to be solved. “For some papers.” he clarified, measured and intent, she knew how much easier that would make their plans for Ida.

Maureen shook her head, glancing down at her twisting hands, “I didn’t want to-“ her mouth twisted too, “-I wanted to ask a superior first.”

Bucky considered that for a moment, slightly touched at her newfound wisdom, “Why not ask Buck?”

She shook her head again, auburn hair curling under her chin just so, even here in the stalag she had some traces of the old charm. “He’s got too much to worry about for me to be bringing in hypotheticals.” she was so upset by something she would not even meet John’s eye and he felt a slice of remorse for how he hadn’t even noticed the ground down change in her since she got here, his drinking buddy and the soft fleshed rival of merry old English days was a gruff and battered and sullen woman; being a red blooded American male, he regretted that dismal change. “And I'm worried about what to bargain with. What can I promise? We haven’t got much and I don’t have— there’s not much anyway, but what we’ve got I didn’t wanna promise. Not without-“ she still hadn’t met his eye, he tracked hers; a furious roving of pale blue back and forth across the floorboards and it made Bucky itch.

“Who signs these papers?” Bucky asked, thinking the logistics through, knowing she’d perk up if he brought them up.

“Haven’t a clue. Maybe they haven’t figured that part out yet. I don’t know. I just know they’ve got papers.”

“Good ones.”

“Yeah.”

“We haven’t got much.” he agreed, clicking his teeth in thought, “What’d you give them for the liquor?”

“They just invited me.”

“Didn’t have to lend a hand or nothin’?” he balked and Maureen threw him a glare that seemed more hurt than rage, and chastened by a voice inside that sounded much like his mama’s, he amended with sheepish humor, “Hell, feel like lending a hand myself these days, if it’d get me a whisky.”

Her gnarled fist curled white in her lap, she managed hoarsely, “They just wanted to talk about home. To someone who hadn’t heard about it a million times before.”

“They got cigarettes?” he asked.

“As most common payment for their booze -they’ve got enough to insulate their shack three deep.”

“Cigarettes won’t cut it then.”

“I’ve been thinking.”-

“Yeah?”

“The radio. I’m the only one who doesn’t think it’s worth the risk but, I know, it doesn’t matter, it’s happening. Gale’s going to keep trying. And if it works-“ she rubbed at her eyes, tired and unsure, “-that’s quite the bargaining chip.”

Bucky nodded slowly, eyes narrowing as his smile grew a touch broader, “News of the outside world.” he was half in agreement, “Buck asked for a week. Been four days.”

“He’s stumped.” Maureen retorted instantly. “And he’ll stay that way and he’ll go nuts and you’ll go die going over the fence and then he’ll have no reason left not to die too.”

Bucky whistled, low and chiding, “You’re full of rainbows today, Candy.”

“You know who he oughta ask.” she shook off the barb. “But he won’t. And I don’t want him risking it for this thing anymore than anyone else, but you all want it so bad, and they’ll shoot us for it if it works or not. I’m not asking her. But you would. Might as well get shot for it working, right? Isn't that what you said yesterday? You know who he should ask.”

Bucky’s keen eyes showed the moment it dawned on him, his eyebrows shot up and his mouth sagged and he ran a weathered hand over his face, “Awww shit, Candy.” came garbled behind his palm. “Ah shit.” he said again with conviction as he shoved the hand into his pocket, wretched acknowledgment of her point clear on his face.

“I didn’t want to suggest it, told Ida it’s a fucking dangerous thing and I’ll never forgive if— but you all—“

Bucky grounded aloud, “Nah, nah she’s -Lu would solve it.” he muttered, shushing her. “Demarco really pummeled you the other day, huh?” he added, and that got her to meet his eye, she looked spooked and a little incensed, “Saw him fuckin’ you up behind B compound but sheesh, s’like he hollowed you out worse than a jacolantern; yer shifty as hell.”

“He-“ Maureen still felt like blanching at the memory of Benny’s terribly correct opinions, his disappointed eyes and his fist full of her flight jacket asking her what in the living fuck was wrong with her besides a concussion, a sick childhood and an ever nauseating jealousy of Buck Cleven’s paternal time and effort, “-he had some admonitions. After…after the other night.”

Bucky hummed, shitty smirk taking up residence on his face, “How ‘bout that.”

“I’m gonna be better.” she muttered and Bucky felt for her, could almost taste the echo of his identical and hollow determination to climb the mountain of bad habits when weak from spuds and pneumonia. He told himself the same every morning and fell into bed condoning his failure every night, like a ritual.

“You’re gonna get us those papers.” he corrected, shoving off the wall to come near her, give her the full Major treatment and maybe a friendly hand, “And you can promise your drinkin’ buddies news from the radio.”

Maureen nodded in understanding, no joy or animation left in her green eyes. She used to enjoy a bit of subterfuge, now she only felt hollow misery at the thought that she'd dragged Lu into this, too. This risk she hated so much and yet no one cared. Lu would be glad to be dragged in, it’s true, she was itching at the chance to be useful and to make Gale proud, it’s how the girl was wired. It’s how most girls were wired, Maureen supposed, desperate to make Gale Cleven approve. Lu’s enthusiasm wouldn’t make the sight of her being made to kneel in the mud and have a bullet put in her head any easier, wouldn’t make Maureen feel any less responsible for it when her lifeless body thudded to the earth.

All that lovely goodness stamped out.

Over a radio.

Bucky’s hand felt too hard and too big on her shoulder. He had gone before the vision cleared, mud and wire and the freezing main square at Ravensbruck fading back to the musty bunk room. Maureen shook herself and stood up to make herself somehow appealing, reamniante some semblance of the cheerful rashness that had led her to the Polish combine in the first place: she found it hard to inspire. She’d like to count that a victory but she knew better, she wasn’t reformed she was just tired.

A washed face and a fake smile and the promise of news from outside would have to be enough to bank all their risks on, it would have to be.

“Crank,” she greeted the man in the hall, flashing him clean, water brushed teeth and her gentlest, freshly soot lined eyes, “I’ve been tasked by Major Egan with an errand, spare a minute to babysit me?”

__________________________________

Bucky finds Buck Cleven in his own bunkroom, Demarco outside on watch and that’s all Bucky needs to know to guess the radio is out and Buck’s working like a fiend yet again to make it work. Sure enough, he’s hunched over the table with it, mittened hands shaking from cold and exhaustion and a sheen of sweat on his forehead despite the paltry sweater he wears.

Bucky walks in and Gale gives him a soft, acknowledging glance before continuing to his work. Bucky takes up his usual place behind Buck’s left shoulder to watch and Buck, being used to it, goes on.

“My little Kriegie Marconi, huh?” Bucky allows the nagging impulse he has felt for weeks while standing in this position to finally exert itself, and his forefinger lifts and swirls in the curling gold strands of hair at the nape of Gale’s neck, his friend almost bolts away but then seems to choose a prey’s tactic and just stills, goes very still and Bucky scritches the scalp beneath his grab in assurance he don’t meant anything by it. He doesn’t think he does, at least.

Gale, wary and with a voice close to mechanized it’s so stilted, inquires with ever-present politeness, “You alright Bucky?”

It’s better than that whole ‘major’ business; getting called Major as if that meant shit anymore. “Yeah, ‘course I am.” Bucky rakes his fingers through the hairs there at the nape of that dainty neck, scritches the scalp with all four of his main ones, and uncovers a white long scar sliding round once he lifts the hairs there. “Why wouldn’t I be? Gonna be a father soon.”

Buck does jerk then, away from his touch and wheeling his chair around to glare at Bucky; it’s an impressively executed little pirouette and John misses the feel of his warm neck and oil soft hair. “Jesus John.” he reprimands.

“We’re gonna get outta here Buck.” John swears, he’s so sure of it because he cannot in all his thinking and predicting ever imagine a scenario where they don’t, and he chooses to think it’s not delusion but a good omen. “Ida’s gonna have that baby and when it’s safe we’ll all meet up.”

Gale is looking at him like he’s his own father again, Bucky knows that look, it always makes him equal parts ashamed and desperate, “Jus’ like that.” Gale mocks in a husky gust.

It’s devastating, and it’s intended to be, and Bucky could bear that with better humor if he could still touch Gale and his hair. “Just like that.”

Gale hums and it’s a mean sorta vocalization that makes Bucky’s heart thud and his skin prickle hot, it’s the kinda noise you kiss off a person, he thinks, but it’s Buck and so he doesn’t know what to do with it. “It’s gonna get you killed.” Buck is saying instead and Bucky lets him, “I know you all think she’s cracked up and maybe she has but it wouldn’t hurt to listen to Kendeigh sometimes when she’s tellin’ ya shit that a five year old could accurately guess, -goddamn it.”

His voice rose to a strong rage by the end and Bucky takes a chair opposite him, sick of standing there like a dumb dog waiting for his scolding to be over. “So what.” Bucky challenges him, “We just wait around and Brady pops out a child and the krauts let us keep it and it’s our new mascot and we all sing zippidy doo da, huh? Huh, Buck?”

Gale’s hands fell away from his face with a slam to the table, a shocking degree of anger showing for a split second and it gave Bucky an odd degree of gratification. “I jus’ want you to find a plan with better odds.”

Bucky sniffed and leaned forward, went in for the kill and Gale was looking at him like he expected it, like it was his turn to play daddy to everyone here and Gale for once was so beaten down he wouldn’t just allow the changing of the guard, he was close to angry at its lateness. It made Bucky’s heart thud.

“I’ve been listening to Kendeigh.” Bucky refuted briefly, “And we’ve got a plan.” Gale gave him a tired look of encouragement to go on, “How long’s it been since you slept? Huh, well, we got a plan. Practically perfect, or it will be, just need the radio.”

“Ain’t giving this away.” Gale said, “Not for anythin’, even useless.”

Bucky patted the table top in easy assurance, if he could have reached Buck’s thigh, he’d have patted that instead, “No, no, don’t need to give it away, just need it to work. So,” he softened his voice and his eyes tightened, “I’m callin’ Lu in.”

Oddly, Gale does not fight it. Not aloud, at least. There’s an anguished look of hate on his face and Bucky mirrors it. It’s for this place and the fucking awful choices they have to choose from every goddamn day.

“You run this by Ida?” is all he asks.

Bucky pops his flaking lips audibly, “What, need us both gangin’ up on you to agree? She’ll sign off. Smith’s an officer. Gotta remember that sometimes, Buck.”

The way his Buck swallows hard and dry contradicts his words, “I do remember that.”

“Really?” Bucky’s mouth gives a soft smile of doubtful incredulity and Gale’s mimics it, mournful but a smirk all the same, “Feel like she should answer to ‘Gale’s Baby’ these days. Lieutenant Smith who?”

Gale scoffs, “Careful now.”

“No really, she’s an officer and she wants to be treated like one. It’ll do her good to have work. Her kinda work.”

“Could get her killed.”

“Layin’ in her bunk could do that.”

Gale grunts, its sounds like an agreement.

“So I say Lieutenant Smith gets put on radio detail. Like her goddamn job description suggests. Huh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Gale lets out a shaky agreement.

“Aaaaand,” Bucky draws it out as he rises again and saunters over to Buck who is ready for him and loose this time, “how bout I go back to bein’ the one you’re frettin’ ‘bout all the time. Got me almost jealous of the girl. How ‘bout I do. Huh?”

Gale’s scoff is fond as anything as he looks up at John with cheerful derision, “And you ‘bout to be a father? Make me an old man? Fuck no, ya looney.”

“Alright.” Bucky concedes with hands up in surrender before lurching forward and grasping Gale’s rickety chair back by its wobbly spokes and hefting it partially off the ground, beautiful and outraged prude of an occupant still seated in it, “Then I’ll play daddy and put you to bed, how ‘bout that.”

“John Egan for fucks sake-“ Gale’s fists pounded on the meat of his shoulders and his outraged protests wafted against Bucky’s neck and his jabbing knees collided with the meat of his thighs and Bucky hadn’t felt so close to him or so happy to be alive since England.

“Major sir, the hell is goin’ on?” Demarco’s tame inquiry from the safety of the doorway made them both lose their grapple and they collided together onto the floor, bunk bed barely missed by their heads and the hapless chair mixed up between their limbs.

Bucky grinned, hip sore from his fall and kidneys suffering from Buck’s trapped elbow there, “Puttin’ Goldilocks to bed.” he replied.

DeMarco processed that and the scene before him with grave sobriety before saluting lazily and turning to go, “Right on, sir.”

John did his best to rise up without further pinching Gale who was indeed trapped beside him and beneath him, chair legs wound between a lanky human leg in a puzzle that Bucky realized might take some caution to untangle without harm. Strangely, Buck wasn’t moving, he was just looking up at him like a cat would their clumsy master who has done somethin’ stupid which was a surprise to neither. It was so innocuous a look and so nostalgic, it winded Bucky with the realization he hadn’t seen it in ages, just as he hadn’t felt his boney ribs against his own and the feel of his elegant hands yanking him around in a fight. This miserable place really was stomping out the glow in the best people.

“Ya know Buck,” he ventured, clearing his throat for extra casualness, “I’ve missed you.” When Gale only kept looking up at him, perfect porcelain face with its unsettling scars and wary eyes without a lick of storm in them, John Egan grabbed his shovel and dug his own grave a little deeper, drug a finger down his cheek. “Missed all this.”

Bucky didn’t know what he meant by “this” but it felt safer and worse all at once, since he did miss Buck but he and Buck never used to hang out on floors with a chair as chaperone. Mercifully, Buck neither points that out nor moves away, acting very much like he needed to heaped on the floor with Bucky and a stray chair every bit as much as John did. Like it’s doing him good.

“And you couldn’t’ve jus’ said.” Gale murmurs with the softest eye roll of the century and Bucky feels like beaming and it must show in his face so strong and bright after a sunless winter that after a flash Gale’s cheeks flame from it and he averts his eyes.

“I dunno Buck, could I?” Egan asks one blushing cheek and Gale hasn’t got a good reply for that, so they just lay there on the floor.

“Go on now, get off me.” Gale doesn’t shove at him, he presses his hand to John’s forehead like he would a dog and John goes, obedient as one.

———————————————————————-

They found Lu with Murph and Benny and Brady, measuring out what seemed to be lot lines between Love Shack #9 and the next combine, boot scuffed perimeters already visible in the light snow and drawn in a decently tidy rectangle. There were guards loitering nearby, nosey as always with their cigarettes and their antsy dogs anytime someone did something out there besides piss or pace or stare at the fence.

“What’s all this?” Bucky inquired cheerfully, coming up to them with Gale, bundled and shivering behind him.

Benny looked up from tilling a furrow with his boot, right where Lu’s mittened finger pointed out. “It’s for the garden. S’posed to be spring before long.”

“A Chicago man oughta know better, Benny.” Egan snarked.

“Need us?”

Bucky sniffed, a casual set to his body that belied his quest, “Just the little one.”

Smith promptly looked startled, then eager. “All well Majors?”

“Need your advice on the color of my cufflinks with this suit.” Bucky extended his arm and beckoned her, “C’mon back in for a minute. One of you too, need a watch to go with the cufflinks.”

———————————————————————

With Benny on guard, Brady and Kendeigh having excavated the radio’s shell from the floorboard and table leg in which it resided, the Buckies stood over Smith’s small frame as she sat at the table and inspected the simplistic device with keen eyed appreciation for the construct.

“It’s really marvelous.” she assured Cleven, running her fingers over the carefully coiled wire and precarious pin.

Gale didn’t even crack a smile. “What’s wrong with it?” he asked instead.

She shook her head, a frown gathering. “Never made one-“ she cautioned.

“-but you get the idea.”

“Yes sir, I do.”

“So what’s wrong.”

Lu ran her fingers over the wire, again and again, the dusty metal not insulated, just bare copper, likely stripped from somewhere. It reminded her of early days as a cadet when they threw chicken wire mixed with hydraulic lines at herself and her fellow rookie engineers and told them to sort it, testing to see if they knew which was which. It had been so rudimentary she had wanted to laugh until she realized others were being flunked.

This was so basic she was stumped.

“Take your time, Lu.” Bucky spoke up after a burdened pause during which she could almost feel Major Cleven breathing down her neck.

“Candy, can I try with the headphone?” she asked at last, frustrated and out of her element, just a few months out of a plane and she had already lost her touch.

Maureen passed it over and Lu pressed it to her ear, not to discern what was quite obviously radio silence, but to imagine the whole process in reverse, track it down the cord all the way to the base, each possible breakdown of the conduction.

She fingered the ramshackle diode with burgeoning suspicion. “What’s your crystal?”

“That’s just…lead.” Cleven muttered.

“From?”

“Ground pencils.” Bucky supplied cheerfully.

Smith bit her lip, “We need sulfur added. Lead won’t conduct on its own.” She figured Cleven knew that, the grim and unmoving set of his mouth suggested so.

“Just- sulfur?” Maureen asked.

“If I had sulfur we could add it to the lead dust, ignite it and-“ Smith grinned at Kendeigh, knowing that she alone may have shared her enjoyment of a small conflagration from time to time, “burn it down and you’ve got something close enough to Galena. Just need a pinch of it should work.”

Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets and surveyed the mostly morose room. All except for the two girls grinning at each other over the hypothetical of a little chemistry experiment in a highly flammable wooden combine.

“We’ve got sandy soil.” Buck’s contemplative drawl spoke up, “Dunno if we could extract enough pure sulfur.”

Maureen stared back at Egan instead, “Other sectors have gotten portions of kits, chemistry kits, radio kits, they’ve been smuggled in with all sorts of stuff. Inside of a violin, oat bags. Nothing to fully build something. They might have sulfur. I could make inquiries and- well, Jack could pick it up next time the band goes over C compound to entertain the poor Aussie bastards.”

“How do you kno- nevermind, actually. Nevermind.” Bucky broke off, “Alright. Sure, why not. Ya sure that’s it?” he asked Lu once more.

She gave a helpless little shrug. “Gotta be. Or the wire’s dirty. Where’d it come from anyway?”

Gale gave Bucky a long suffering look as Bucky seemed to swell a couple inches and bounce back on his heels at the mention of his scrounging prowess. “The lamp.” he nodded above them all.

Jack Brady scoffed, short, clipped, betrayed, “That why it cuts out all the time? Strobed us so bad last night -thought the room was possessed.”

“Sacrifices Jack, sacrifices.”

———————————————————

Benny had hauled in enough water buckets to elicit some negative attention from the guards, and when the inspection came the inmates of the Love Shack insisted the drenched floors and table of the Majors’ barracks were due to sanitation post regurgitation. At night, with only one stolen torch light from Combine 15 to illuminate the endeavor, a basin of water beneath a smaller bowl in which lay their precious and recently procured ingredients, a science experiment began. The Majors and Ida gathered round, all looking as ghastly and spectral in the light of the flashlight as Brady’s fake ghost. It held the thrill of a bonfire night except for the stakes, which all in the room did their best not to dwell on.

“Zippo, Candy.” Lu gave the word and Maureen, with only the protection of Ida’s bent aviators to keep from a scorched cornea, flicked on her lighter and set the mixed powders ablaze.

It flamed up high and smelly, making Benny gag and mutter something about Meatball’s gas to a tittering Brady, and then died down to a yellow smoking ember.

“We should let it sit.” Lu surmised with a squeeze to Maureen’s only somewhat singed hand, her big dark eyes surveying the burnt bowl and their smoking experiment with glittery excitement at the possibility of success, “Let it cool, settle, maybe strain it. Can you get me a net? Oh Candy come now, get me a strainer?” she begged with a laugh as Maureen rolled her eyes at the idea of yet another trip to the Stalag Market for the most random items imaginable. If they hoped to not be suspicious, they’d need better lies or more money.

“How about cheesecloth?” Kendeigh tried not to grin indulgently- and failed- in the face of Lu and having recently been allowed to set something on fire

Lu kissed her cheek. “Cheesecloth would be perfect.”

In the end, cheesecloth did indeed prove perfect, and amongst the burnt dust of the combined minerals was a gritty little pinch full of the needed crystals. Or so Lu said, Gale agreed but the crease between his brows hadn’t lifted for two days; Bucky’s fingers had begun to twitch in antsy need to manually smooth them out. He imagined Maureen felt the same but she hadn’t said, uncharacteristically forbearant now she had some job to keep her sane. Even if it was playing fetch for Lu.

—————————————————————

“Well, this is it.” Gale muttered when the watch had been set once more, Murph and Hambone on the steps, Crank inside, Brady at the door, Benny at the window. Even Major Clark had joined them in the barracks for this final try and Lu’s cheeks were maroon from the attention even as her deft hands steadily pressed her concoction beneath its intended rod.

“Pass me the pliers, sir?” She asked and for a moment, the teacher became the apprentice and Gale fetched her the stalag forged tool, rudimentary like everything here yet the gripped and pulled and lifted same as the pliers back home. “You could check your look in this wire’s reflection.” She complimented Gale’s buffing of the copper wire.

He shrugged in turn. “Didn't wanna leave anythin’ to chance. That it?” he asked as her hands stalled and she surveyed her work.

Lu nodded solemnly. “Yes sir.”

Gale picked up the headphone from in front of him on the table like it was a gun he was about to bring to his head. “Here.” He extended it to her instead, “S’right, it was your job, you should be the first. Cmon.”

Despite her voiceless protest he pressed the headphones into her hands and Lu, never knowing how to disobey an officer, folded immediately.

For a good ten seconds everyone in the room held their breath as Smith pressed the headphone to her ear and gently wiggled the clothespin along the wire, searching and tuning, her face holding that old peaceful concentration they hadn’t seen since the last mission. She was at home with her mind tuned to another dimension. The pilots in the room knew that look, that was the look of someone at home with something that terrified them all the same, the gut swooping feeling of clearing the take off and sledding along the tops of the clouds. Wrong and strange and utterly incomparable to others, it was the closest to home one’s mind could be. Lu belonged somewhere on those electric currents and searching them out was like finding oneself again.

Then at last, Lu’s eyes sharpened out of their dreamy haze of concentration and she said, gentle as always, “It’s the BBC sir.”

💋 Hope you enjoyed! Feedback is a writer’s lifeblood, please feel free to scream in comments or the inbox, I love it and wanna hear it all. Trust me, nothing is “too dumb”. Your thoughts mean the world to me.

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apoloadonisandnarcissus · 2 months ago

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The Physicality of Sauron x Galadriel: Cosmic Connection and Physical Attraction

We already heard the expression “cosmical connection” a million times, and even I already discussed that in this post. Expressions like “higher beings” and such have been used by the actors and show producers to describe Sauron and Galadriel’s connection.

And, then, we have this iconic moment:

What does this “cosmic connection” means? Both Galadriel and Sauron/Mairon are immortal spirits. Mairon, as a Maia, is one of the Ainur, and one of the forces who first shaped the world, alongside the Valar (Ainulindalë or “Music of the Ainur”). He’s ancient, being around since the Days before Days (before the world was created).

Galadriel was born during the Years of the Trees, thousands of years later. And she’s of one the Children of Ilúvatar, an Elf. Her grandparents were among the first Elves created by Eru to live in Valinor.

What’s the difference?

Mairon belongs to the Unseen world, because he is, up and foremost, a spiritual being. And like all Maiar and Valar, he can choose his physical form (Halbrand, Annatar, etc.) in the Seen world. And he’s not bound to it, but these forms are all the same spirit. Hence the big focus on “Halbrand is Sauron” in Season 2, and even Charlie Vickers said many times in recent interviews how he wanted to show that continuity between both characters in his interpretation of Sauron in Season 2.

Galadriel belongs to the Seen world, and cannot chose her physical form. She’s bound to the one she was born with (in this sense, Elves are pretty much like Men, who are also Children of Ilúvatar). In the Third age, Galadriel can move between the Seen and Unseen world, but that’s not the case when she and Mairon first meet.

Let’s see what happens when Maiar and Elves fall in love:

Melian and Thingol

In the Valaquenta, we were introduced to some Maiar of interest. Melian was one of these. She’s a Maia to Vána (Vala of preserving youth and of fauna and flora on Middle-earth, also known as “Queen of Flowers”) and Estë (Vala of healing and purveyor or restful sleep). Melian dwells on the gardens of Lórien, and has a magical voice, great wisdom and was beloved by all. Birds, especially nightingales (her signature friends) surround her at all times. Around the time the Elves are created by Eru, she ventures across the Sundering Seas and arrives on Middle-earth.

Centuries later, the Teleri are the third or the Elf clans (alongside the Noldor and the Vanyar) to take the Great Journey, from Valinor to Middle-earth. Their leader, Elwë (Thingol) has the habit of wandering the woods by himself. One day, he ventures a forest called Nan Elmoth, in Beleriand. And there she meets Melian, and he was absolutely smitten.

“Enchantment” falls on him, and when he actually hears Melian’s voice, it’s all over. Her song fills “all his heart with wonder and desire.” And this is before he actually sees her: when he finally does set eyes on her, he’s at awe, because the “light of Aman” is reflected in her face.

Love overtakes Thingol, completely. He takes Melina’s hand, and “straightway a spell is laid on him.” Suddenly his plans (to reunite with his friend Finwë, to lead his people to Valinor, to dwell again in the light of the Two Trees) just disappear. He forgets everyone and everything. Thingol and Melian just stand there, looking at each others’ eyes, hands clasped, and perfectly still, for (according to some sources) 200 years. The trees grown tall around them. And no one knows Thingol is there, so his people search for him in Beleriand, in vain.

Since this event seem so over the top, many speculate that an actual spell, indeed, fall upon Thingol, even thought Tolkien gives no indication of him being “enslaved” or joining with Melian against his will. Anyway, one theory is that this meeting was orchestrated by Eru himself, because many key events happened because of it. Meaning, they were “doomed” to meet and fall in love:

Thingol and Melian will go on to establish the first of the organized Elven kingdoms of Middle-earth, in Beleriand, and rule it as Queen and King: Doriath (and their people are known as the “Sindar”);

They will have a child, described as “fairest of all the Children of Ilúvatar that ever was or shall ever be”: Lúthien, who would help in defeating both Morgoth and Sauron in the future.

In order to be with Thingol (= have sex with him), Melian retained her physical form, and became bound to it after conceiving a child with him. Meaning she couldn’t access the Unseen world, anymore (= return to her true spiritual form).

“Rings of Power” created a parallel of Thingol and Melian’s first meeting with Galadriel and Mairon, throughout Season 1:

Then an enchantment fell on him, and he stood still; and afar off beyond the voices of the lómelindi he heard the voice of Melian, and it filled all his heart with wonder and desire.

He forgot then utterly all his people and all the purposes of his mind, and following [the sound] and was lost

But he came at last to a glade open to the stars, and there Melian stood; and out of the darkness he looked at her, and the light of Aman was in her face. She spoke no word;

[…] but being filled with love Elwë came to her and took her hand,

[…] and straightway a spell was laid on him so that they stood.

[…] thus while long years were measured by the wheeling stars above them; [not only are they outside, but Galadriel armor has a star sigil – and, no, this is not Fëanor’s sigil, it’s a different design]

[...]; and the trees of Nan Elmoth grew tall and dark before they spoke any word

Like Thingol and Melian, there is no need for words between them. They look into each others’ eyes and feel it (“I’ve felt it too”). This makes it hard for the audience to understand what is happening between them, but it is what it is.

However, I think this was *the moment* when they truly saw the extent of their mutual feelings for each other; when their souls are merging due to being bound together (via Morgoth’s crown). Which explains their reactions here: Galadriel is shocked, and Mairon is in happy disbelief. “Wait- you’re actually in love with me?”

Galadriel thinks Sauron is evil incarnate, she’s not shocked because he stabbed her, come on.

Which, again, explains this expression over here. This is pure joy, and he has tears on his eyes: Mairon believes that Galadriel is about to join him, and they are going to run into Mordor the sunset together.

Cosmic connection and Physical attraction

Galadriel belongs to the Seen world, the same as Thingol. But their Maiar pair, Melian and Mairon, are from the Unseen world. Meaning: are these connections only spiritual (“cosmically”) or they have a physical component (“lust”), too?

We know that Thingol and Melian went physical with theirs, because they had a child together. Since Thingol is from the Seen world (and cannot access the Unseen world) he’s both a physical and spiritual being (Elf) but he’s only spiritual after the death of his physical body. The same with Galadriel.

Both Maiar and Valar are capable of feeling love and lust in Tolkien lore. We see this not only with Melian, but with all Valar couples. We also see Melkor/Morgoth lusting after Lúthien when he saw her dancing for him (this implies a very physical sentiment).

Then Morgoth looking upon her beauty [Lúthien] conceived in his thought an evil lust, and a design more dark than any that had yet come into his heart since he fled from Valinor. Thus he was beguiled by his own malice, for he watched her, leaving her free for a while, and taking secret pleasure in his thought. Lúthien dances for Morgoth on his Dark Throne [before she puts him and all the host of Angband to sleep with her magic singing]

In other works describing this episode, Tolkien goes on using words like “lust”, “hunger”, “blinding thrist”, “pleasure”, and stressing the importance of Morgoth trying to reach out for Lúthien with his hand (= he wants to touch her). Meaning, there is a real physical element at play here (even if it’s evil and diabolical).

Mairon himself got pretty “touchy” with Galadriel back in Season 1. This is not random, and this implies the connection between them was not only “cosmical”; Mairon, a spiritual being, wanted to touch Galadriel, meaning, there was as a physical element/attraction there, too.

We also saw this with Mirdania in Season 2, the she-elf of Eregion who reminded him of Galadriel, and was used as a plot device for the audience to see that Galadriel is always on Mairon’s mind.

Meaning: yes, Mairon wants to “shake the sheets” (or the table forge) with Galadriel. It’s not only “cosmical” or “spiritual”. He desires her, on a physical level, too.

Mairon, the Maia of Aulë

To understand the physical attraction, we need to go back to the beginning of Mairon himself.

Mairon was created by Eru as a Maia of Aulë, the Vala of smithing and handiwork. He was among the most powerful Maiar, and the purest one, too. Eru created him to be good and loyal, but also to love several things: crafting and creation (smithing), beauty, order and perfection, and to dislike wastefulness. These were, most likely, Mairon’s contributions to shape the world in the Ainulindalë.

Melkor/Morgoth used Mairon’s love of order and perfection to corrupt him, and turned it into an obsession with domination and control. Morgoth corrupted his goodness and loyalty into evil and treachery (turning him into “the great deceiver”). His love of beauty corrupted into ugliness, by the breeding of the Orcs. Mairon’s greatest virtues became his downfall.

And who better embodies the qualities of “beauty” and “perfection” than Galadriel herself? Her beauty is the stuff of legends, and everyone is at awe when they first meet her. Her very gold/silver hair inspired the most legendary jewels in existence: the Silmarils. The light of the Two Trees of Valinor shine on her hair and eyes.

We also see Galadriel connected with “smithing”: she’s the object of the love and lust of the two legendary Elven smiths: Fëanor and Celebrimbor (Brimby in Tolkien lore, not in “Rings of Power”). Fëanor was inspired by how the light caught her hair to create the Silmarils; and he asked her for a few strands of hair, three times, and three times she denied him. In the Third age, Galadriel would gift strands of her hair to Gimli, a Dwarf, a Child of Aulë (the Dwarves were created by Aulë himself; another connection to smithing and to Mairon’s original Vala).

Yes, "Rings of Power" really went there. All the paralells.

Galadriel is also connected with power, something Mairon liked from the beginning, too (which caused Melkor to target him and get him to his side). She's not only power-hungry, but she's powerful, herself, and will only grow in power as the years go by. She's a natural leader, proud and rebellious; she was born to rule (literally, because her father was High King of the Noldor in Valinor, she’s an actual princess).

Just like Thingol and Melian!

Galadriel was also a pupil of Aulë and his wife Yavanna, back in Valinor. Which means, that if Mairon wasn’t corrupted by Morgoth/Melkor and he didn’t betray the Valar, they would have met, then. And what would have happened? Galadriel would never marry Celeborn, in the first place, that’s for sure (they met on Middle-earth, not in Valinor). And if sparkles happened in Middle-earth, in the most antagonist of scenarios (with Mairon already corrupted), OG Mairon and Artanis (Galadriel’s original name) meeting would set Aulë’s forge on fire. Artanis would have the most enviable jewelry collection in all of Arda. Because Mairon would gift her and worship her, nonstop: I will place crown(s) upon your head. I will never rest until all Arda had been brought to its knees, to worship the light of its Queen.

The “what ifs” don’t stop here. Because Artanis and Mairon power couple would parallel Yavanna and Aulë, too. Yavanna, Aulë’s wife and queen, “Queen of the Earth”, physical form is described: “in the form of a woman she is tall, and robed in green (…) crowned with the Sun; and from all its branches there spilled a golden dew upon the earth.”

Wild how “Rings of Power” already went there. Several times:

In fact, the first regal outfit we see Galadriel wear in "Rings of Power" is a teal (greenish-blue) cape and a gold dress. And she's wearing a gold flower crown. All hail, Queen Artanis, stronger than the foundations of the earth? Interesting choice of words, because Aulë created the "foundations of the earth" (= mountains).

In 2x02, we see Galadriel planting flowers, while wearing green and with a gold leaf crown on her head (as she was meant to be):

How could Mairon not love her? That’s the real question. Galadriel is the materialization, the physical form, of everything he was designed to love. And she can’t change her physical form, mind you. She belongs to the Seen world.

And this was probably the reason why Eru brought them together, in the first place: for Mairon to recall his original purpose. And probably to rub on his face what he lost for being a evil b*tch and side with Melkor. Galadriel is already bound to another (Celeborn) in the eyes of the Valar and the Eldar. The only way to “undone�� that is for the Valar themselves to give permission.

#saurondriel #haladriel #sauron x galadriel #galadriel x sauron #galadriel x mairon #galadriel x halbrand #artanis x mairon #Haladriel meta #Saurondriel meta

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nebbyy · 9 months ago

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Please write a fanfic about King Baldwin IV from KoH, where he fell in love with female reader. The plot is up to you. Please make it a serious love story with slight fluff 🤗🤭

Baldwin IV x reader - Life always comes down to a game of chess

A/N: You have no idea how much I love you anon, this was one of the prompts I already wanted to write omgggg!! For this fic I kinda got inspired by this painting (which, for everyone interested, it’s “La belle dame sans merci” by Frank Dicksee), and you’ll see how and why reading it;)

Summary: King Baldwin IV receives an offer from an Italian nobleman to marry his daughter; unsure of whether to accept or not this compelling offer, Baldwin decides to do what he does best…

Warning: there are some mentions of christianity and religious references along with some hints at the misogynistic ideologies of the time (about the woman being “owned” by the dominant male figure in her life) ((I don’t condone this ideology at all but I thought it’d be fitting to add it anyway to give some accuracy to it)).

Word count: 2637

King Baldwin couldn’t quite wrap his head around you. The day that he was informed of your engagement, he felt himself quite skeptical of the idea of marrying someone. After all, ever since his leprosy had been diagnosed he had to get used to the idea of living a life of solitude, forced into a lifelong chastity, for no sane man would ever marry off their daughter to a leper. With time, he had found solace in nurturing his own knowledge and virtue, elevating himself to a level of wisdom that very few could boast at his young age.

During the following days, the young king's mind was plagued with thoughts, considerations he was making to weigh the choice. The benefits of marrying Lady Y/N were many, first and foremost securing a connection to the land of Italian speakers, allowing for easier trafficking of crusaders arriving in the Holy Land, not to mention the abundance that would be the young lady's dowry. And not only did marrying her mean strengthening the economical side of his reign, but it also meant giving the impression to the public that the king's health condition was improving to such an extent that he considered that to be an ideal time to marry. His most trusted men and all of his advisors kept repeating to him, marrying Lady Y/N would’ve been comparable to a blessing.

But despite all the benefits this union seemed like it would bring, Baldwin continued to hesitate to make a decision. What left him so undecided was the possibility that this was some kind of deception, a conspiracy orchestrated against him, hidden in the form of the most convenient of marriages. It was up to him to decide whether it was worth taking these risks in favor of the benefits that would come if his concerns turned out to be unfounded.

Like everything else in his life, this choice came down to a game of chess…

It was this idea that prompted him to make a decision. Baldwin had a messenger called, to be sent to Pisa to give the news to Lord Y/F/N that the king wished to report his decision to him live, at his court. For the lord to arrive it would have to wait, but Baldwin has always been a man of exceptional patience.

Four months passed, when at the dawn of Lent it was announced by a Pisan messenger that Lord Y/F/N and his daughter had come to Acre, and would soon be coming to Jerusalem. Another week passed before father and daughter, riding two white horses and accompanied by an escort of knights arrived at the royal palace.

When he first saw you, Baldwin could have sworn he saw Mary himself. You walked with such grace that you almost seemed to float. Your face looked serene, despite the anxiety that had been devouring you from within ever since the day the invitation from the king of Jerusalem reached you; a blue veil covered your hair, framing your face and falling over your shoulders. You bowed to Baldwin as was proper to do before a king, yet he felt so tempted to interrupt you, prevent you from bowing to him, perhaps even bowing to you himself.

At that moment he felt like Lancelot before Guinevere, completely mesmerized by your beauty, one who seemed more fit to an angel than a woman. But, he gave no sign of his true emotional state; after all, a gorgeous woman does not mean she can be fit to serve as queen. Her answer will be decided when she has had a chance to hear you speak, away from the judgmental stares of the court, free from any influence that might change what you really think.

As the sun shone bright in the sky, the banquet took place inside of the palace. The king excused himself before going to eat by himself in his chambers as usual, leaving his guests in the company of his sisters and his court. Loud chatter filled the room, goblets were raised to get more wine poured, courses flowed onto the set table, a tribute to thank Lord Y/F/N for making such a journey to fulfill the king's request. All this noise, yet in your ears all became quiet when a servant approached your chair, whispering a few simple words, "The king has requested your presence at dinner."

Your blood froze in your veins in surprise, and you could almost feel your father's thrill as you rose from your seat, having the servant guide you toward the king's study. Walking through the halls of the palace, you could do nothing but feel so small in comparison, you almost seemed to disappear, enveloped by the magnificence of everything around you that, if all went well, you would have called your own.

You were brought back to reality when the heavy doors of the king's room were opened by the two guards who stood at his sides. An enveloping fragrance, a mixture of myrrh and frankincense filled your senses with a feeling of serenity, an almost familiar feeling. In the center of the room, a hooded figure, dressed in silk as white as snow. "Come forward, my lady. I apologize for my absence at the table but," she interjected for a moment, rising from her seat and revealing her face-or at least, what was not covered by the veil-"many might find my appearance somewhat...disturbing during a meal." He chuckled a little at that last part. You wondered if irony had become a kind of means for him to soften his own hellish condition.

As soon as he turned around you could not help but study the appearance of what will hopefully be your future husband. Rumors about his condition had been swirling since the day he was crowned, so you had been prepared to be confronted with a horrifically disfigured man. Instead, although part of his face was covered by the thin veil, it was like an instinct for you to try to study his features. You could vaguely make out the golden hair that adorned his face, although it was covered by the veil. His voice had intrigued you; it sounded so jovial and yet so deep. A melody that sang of the young monarch's endeavors. It intrigued you, you wondered what his lips looked like, whether they matched the sound of his voice.

But what really caught your interest were his eyes. They were blue, but of a color so deep, so intense, it reminded you of tales you had heard about the northern seas, of the waters that dark and deep seemed to beckon sailors, to lead them to drown within them. Likewise you felt mesmerized by such intensity. And you wondered, how much of this would remain the same as his illness progressed.

You recovered from that momentary trance, wasting no time to bow, but this time Baldwin stopped you before you were able to bow more than your head: "Don't bow, please. Such reverences are not necessary here." You looked at him a little dumbfounded, but despite the king's unusual attitude you did not object. He stepped to the side, revealing a finely decorated chessboard, with all the pawns already set in place. "Do you play?" he asked softly, and you finally mustered up the courage to speak "It's been some time since I last did," as you approached the table, taking your seat opposite Baldwin. He took his seat again, and for the first time in your life you found yourself face to face with a king.

You quickly realised that he had assigned you the white pawns, the small courtesy of moving you first. You took a moment to think of an initial strategy, and moved your first pawn. A horse. Baldwin raised his eyebrows, surprised by your decision. "Aren't you going to move the pawns first?" You kept your gaze on the chessboard, partly out of respect and partly out of fear, still unsure why the king would call you to his chambers, if indeed it was all just to have a playmate. "I always prefer to start with the horse. I like to think that the pawns would be frightened to charge against the enemy without a knight to guide them." You looked up, meeting his eyes that studied you intrigued. Chuckling at what you had just said, you continued, shaking your head slightly, "Forgive me, it was just a silly thought."

"Not at all, my lady," he replied, studying your every detail, "I find it fascinating." It was his turn to move, and as per rule, he moved one of the pawns, the one in front of the queen. "So you think good leadership is better than letting the individual decide for himself?" There was a spark that had lit up in his eyes, something playful. It was clear that you were intriguing him, surprisingly in your eyes, since you had been instructed to stay behind your father's shadow, not to express your thoughts or externalize your ideologies.

Everything had to be perfect, one could not risk the futile mind of a young woman ruining the marriage that would have been so beneficial to her dukedom, but above all to her family. Yet at that moment she felt that expressing what resided in her own mind was exactly what Baldwin wanted from her. Something lit up in her too, and he in turn caught the same spark in her eyes. Could it be that she had figured out the trick...?

Another pawn moved, it was Baldwin's turn to move again. Your eyes seldom parted from each other, just for that moment necessary to make your own move. "Independence is not always what benefits a man. Certainly, it is tempting, but in moments of indecision it risks leading to oblivion. An infantryman needs a leader, a young man who is lost in the woods needs a hunter to guide him out..." Another move, the white bishop points directly at the black king "...an indecisive man needs an outside opinion to make his decision."

You smiled, and like the sweetest of plagues you infected him too. You had deciphered his little deception. An innocent deception, with the purpose of seeing with your own eyes how you, in a condition so similar to what is the duty of a sovereign, would have acted.

After all, his life always came down to a game of chess....

"So you understood..." Baldwin whispered, again sitting in his place. For the first time in his memory, someone had managed to leave him speechless. His witty mind seemed to have died out all of a sudden, the knight in him unarmed by the woman sitting in front of him. Maybe the deception wasn’t as occult as he had planned, or maybe this young lady was really able to stand up to him.

You smiled at him proudly, be proud of your intuition but also relieved that your thought had not turned out to be foolish. Your pride had removed from your mind every rule, every admonition that had been given to you from the moment you set foot in the Holy Land; your mind was now like a river in flood, finally free to flow out according to its natural course. "I do not blame you, my lord. I realize that this is a difficult choice for you, and that the factors at stake go far beyond your individual will."

"And what do you think about that?" Your smile acquired a bittersweet scent, and you answered without almost hesitation: "I am only a woman, my will is that of my father and it will be of my husband. My family prays that this role will be filled by you, and for this to happen I have been instructed to be fit to reign at your side."

“That I can clearly see, but what truly urges me is to know what your own will says. If we were to marry, you would be the bride to a wretched man, one whose fate has already been announced by God. My demise won't be far off, you’ll be left a widow in a foreign land. And before this… curse gets the better of me, there is no saying that it won’t get to you too. If it did, you would suffer the same fate I had been given.”

It took you a moment to let his words sink into your mind. He spoke the truth, a future with him would be filled with sickness and uncertainty; you would have to live in a court far from your home, where everyone was waiting for the king’s death like a flock of crows flying above a dying man. You took a deep breath, feeling as everything came down to this very moment. “I won’t lie to you, my lord, the future that awaits me while standing by your side is not an easy one by any means, and I’m very much aware of that. I do not expect my future to be easy, for it would be an excess of greed. So if I can have a saying in my own future, I’d like to say that I would much rather all the time that is given to me by the Lord standing by the side of a man filled with virtue, than by the side of a man too full of himself to see anything just an inch away from his reflection. There would be no greater honor for me than to stand by your side, for as long as you still have to live, my lord. And if I ever was to catch this disease as well, then I would have no other words to say other than God wills it.“

At your words, the young king had to shake himself up, now more than ever necessary for him to say something, anything really. “For you, my lady, I shall always be just Baldwin.” His tone was softer than ever, a soft breeze that reached to you and whispered I am but yours now. It was unsaid, but decided. Once this meeting would be over, the king would come to your father, and confirm his decision to accept the proposal. Only problem was, this meeting seemed to have become endless. What was supposed to be a quick meal, accompanied by a game of chess, turned into a lively exchange of political views, then silly childhood anecdotes, then again into a walk in the inner courtyard of the palace. Baldwin tried hard to keep you in his presence for as long as was deemed decent for an unmarried man and woman. He kept you with him as long as he could, and when that was no longer possible, he led you back into the great hall, gently holding your hand over his. Soon after the announcement of your engagement, the wedding was set to happen during the following Easter, and the banquet made in honor of his guests was prolonged until the sun had been long set, this time in honor of his betrothed.

You think back to that day fondly, as you lay on your bed, in the comfort of silky sheets and soft pillows. One of your hands holds your head while the others traces the patterns of the scars in your husband’s face that have considerably worsened during the years. Aside from the bed, sitting on a table, forgotten as long as the night reigned over Jerusalem, were two crowns, along with two chess pawns. A white queen and a black king. Both came from the set that had been used the day the two of you met, a reminder for Baldwin of the day God had merged your destinies in one.

A/N: wowww that came out longer than I though oopss. ANYWAY, this was my interpretation of your request, anon, hope you like it!! Also, for everyone who’s gonna read this, feel free to leave any constructive criticism since this is my first fic and I would like to improve a looot more in my writing skills. That’s it now have a nice day y’all <3<3

#kingdom of heaven #king baldwin iv #baldwin iv #king baldwin iv x reader #king baldwin x reader #fluff #historical fiction #anon ask #requests open #writers on tumblr #my fic #writing requests

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ange11icyuri · 16 days ago

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HOLIDAY PICK A PILE 🎄🎁👼🏻

(What is going to happen around the holidays for you??)

Pile One. ❤️

Around the holidays, you might find yourself feeling a bit impatient about something you’re looking forward to. Is there a gift, a moment, or perhaps someone you’re waiting for? This sense of anticipation could bring some doubt, as if you’re uncertain whether what you’re hoping for will truly happen. I sense that during this time, your strength may be tested. You might experience a mix of emotions, including resentment or confusion, as you navigate a situation that feels complex and unresolved.

This holiday season, it’s important to find balance in your life, especially as you prepare for the new year. Don’t settle for anything that doesn’t bring you happiness or peace. Reflect on how you can create harmony in your relationships—both romantic and platonic—and work on aligning your life with what truly matters to you. It might not be an easy process, but it will be worth it.

You may also feel a strong sense of desire, but trust your intuition during this time. Be cautious of anyone who might stir up feelings or make promises they can’t keep. Stay grounded and listen to yourself first and foremost. As the holidays approach, I see you reflecting on your goals—what you’ve accomplished and what’s still left to achieve. You’ll likely use this time to plan and set intentions for the new year. This reflection will help you focus on what’s truly necessary and meaningful.

Remember, you have the freedom to choose your path and the power to shift your perspective. Don’t limit yourself to one option or outcome. Make the decisions that feel right for you, and establish boundaries where needed. This will be a time of growth and self-discovery.

The number 10 stands out—a symbol of completion. By the end of the year, you’ll feel a greater sense of wholeness, with a renewed sense of security as the new year begins. Although delays might test your patience, they are often necessary to prepare you for better things ahead. In the new year, I see clarity, fairness, and balance entering your life. You’re close to achieving your goals, and everything will fall into place in time. Stay focused, trust yourself, and know that success is within reach.

Pile Two.❄️

Around the holidays, I see you striving to stay grounded and realistic. You may also find yourself surrounded by people who embody steadiness and reliability—someone you can count on. If this resonates with your energy, it’s a reminder from spirit to continue addressing challenges in a practical, mature way. You have the wisdom to resolve issues thoughtfully, and this approach will serve you well not only during the holidays but also as you move into the new year.

However, I sense that you may be holding back a lot of emotions, perhaps feeling overwhelmed or unable to express yourself as fully as you’d like. The holidays often bring a flurry of tasks and responsibilities, and it’s easy to feel stretched thin. For some, this time may even bring feelings of emptiness, as though you’re going through the motions without truly feeling joy. The stress and constant activity could be taking a toll on your mental health, leaving you exhausted and stuck in a routine that feels draining.

There may also be a sense of betrayal or dishonesty around you. Someone in your life might not have the best intentions, and their actions could be manipulative or deceitful. Whether this has already happened or is yet to come, it’s essential to trust your intuition and be cautious about who you place your trust in. Not everyone around you has good morals or honest intentions, and it’s important to protect your energy.

The holidays might bring a shift—a time of deep reflection and ambition. You could feel pressure to accomplish goals that have been on your mind, but the overwhelming pace of life might leave you worried and uncertain. If this resonates, take it as a sign to slow down and approach things with care. Balance is key, and prioritizing your well-being is just as important as achieving your ambitions.

There’s also an energy of envy here—whether it’s you comparing yourself to others or someone else feeling jealous of you. If you find yourself envying others’ happiness during the holidays, remember that everyone faces their own challenges, even if they aren’t visible. Conversely, if someone else seems envious of you, it could be because they don’t see the struggles you’re carrying internally. You might be skilled at hiding your emotions, but bottling them up can lead to repression and frustration.

Delays or setbacks may be contributing to your feelings of doubt and anxiety. You might feel like your life is stuck in a state of chaos, or you could be navigating an unsettling change or conflict. This could leave you feeling closed off, disheartened, or unwilling to take risks. If this resonates, it’s crucial not to let these challenges close you off from others or from new possibilities. Staying open, even during difficult times, will help you find your way forward.

Though your strength may be tested this holiday season, know that you are capable of overcoming anything. Reframe your perspective, seek healthy coping mechanisms, and focus on maintaining a positive mindset. Manifest your goals and desires for the new year, and trust that good things are on the horizon. Even if things feel overwhelming now, you have the resilience to face your challenges head-on. In the end, your strength and perseverance will bring rewards and brighter days.

Pille Three ☃️

You might be finding yourself isolating more lately, especially around the holidays. Socializing or being in big crowds may feel overwhelming or uncomfortable for you, and that’s okay. It’s important to honor your feelings and take the space you need. However, I see a determination within you—perhaps you’re considering stepping out of your comfort zone a bit as the new year approaches. You’re trying to embrace independence, or you may have already reached a strong level of it, which is a wonderful foundation for growth.

There’s a promising new beginning ahead. This could signify the start of a romantic relationship, the deepening of an existing connection, or even a new friendship. Whatever it is, it feels like something that will inspire self-love and reflection, helping you care for yourself in a way you might not have before. Around this time, you may start to feel a sense of peace and balance, finally experiencing the serenity you’ve been craving.

This positive shift may be supported by the presence of someone special—a person whose energy aligns with yours and encourages you to move forward into a brighter chapter. However, don’t let comfort make you complacent. Even when things are going well, it’s important to stay motivated and keep putting in the effort. Remember, success and joy are maintained by consistent energy and dedication.

That said, there’s also a message here about letting go of something—or someone—that no longer serves you. You might be holding onto a connection or situation out of fear or habit, but it’s only weighing you down. Spirit urges you to release what isn’t meant for you to make room for the blessings ahead. Be mindful of manipulative or unreliable people in your life. No matter how good things might seem on the surface, trust your intuition and protect your energy. You deserve authentic, supportive connections.

Change can be intimidating, but embracing it will lead you to fulfillment and happiness. Even if the journey feels challenging, know that every step forward is bringing you closer to a better version of your life. Trust in yourself, focus on what truly matters, and don’t let intrusive or negative thoughts hold you back. Once you overcome these obstacles, you’ll step into a place of optimism, achievement, and inner peace.

Your journey is one of resilience, and as you push through the difficulties, you’ll find that everything you’ve worked toward will finally come together. Keep going—beautiful things are waiting for you.

Pile Four 🎁

I see someone here who is deeply thankful—not just because it’s the holiday season, but because gratitude is a part of who you are. You appreciate every blessing that comes your way. You’re also someone who embodies forgiveness. Perhaps you’ve recently forgiven someone and are ready to start fresh, clearing the air as you move into the new year. This decision might mark a new beginning, whether it’s with yourself or others. You may also be striving to grow as a person, embracing positive changes to build a better future.

However, caution is needed. I sense some envy and irresponsibility lingering in your energy. While forgiveness is powerful, it’s essential to ensure those you forgive are genuinely taking responsibility for their actions. Be mindful not to trust too easily, as some may mask their true intentions behind lies. Trust yourself above all else.

This holiday season, I see a partnership forming—whether for work, a project, or simply sharing experiences with someone. There’s talent involved here, possibly related to something creative or entertaining. It will bring joy and freedom, with no limits holding you back. Remember to stay fair, open-minded, and consider all perspectives. Also, try to manage your spending wisely during this time, as there’s a warning about the potential for overspending and falling into debt.

There may be lingering anxiety, perhaps tied to past conflicts or fears of failure with someone. Despite these worries, know that you’ve earned every bit of your success. Recognition is coming your way—possibly even publicly. People will finally know your name, and you’ll feel the triumph and victory you’ve longed for. Progress is on the horizon, and with it, a newfound confidence.

You’re preparing for something bigger—an exciting opportunity that’s just within reach. Honesty and openness will play a role, and your efforts will lead to stability and success. Still, you might experience moments of doubt or feel like you’re revisiting old challenges, leading to a sense of loss or disappointment. This could make you question your path, but these feelings will pass. You’ll find forgiveness once again, and through distractions, you’ll begin to heal.

As you move into the new year, I see a shift. If you’ve felt trapped or restricted in the past, that energy is fading. Healing will take place, and your situation will improve. In the end, everything you’ve been striving for will come together. You’ll reach a place of completion, where you feel whole, content, and deeply grateful for all that you’ve achieved.

You’ve come such a long way, and your hard work is paying off. The new year holds so much promise—success, happiness, and fulfillment. Trust in your journey, and enjoy the rewards you’ve earned.

#tarot reading #general tarot reading #tarot community #love tarot reading #spiritual reading #tarot #money tarot reading #love reading #pick a pile #spirituality #pick a pile reading #pick a card #pick a pile tarot #pick a pile tarot reading #pac #detailed

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yoga-onion · 1 year ago

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Buddha to his disciples, mini-series

To Sariputra - part 1

Sāriputra (Ref) is regarded as the first chief disciple,and foremost of Buddha's ten great disciples. He is regarded as the 'foremost of the wise’ and sometimes preached on Buddha's behalf. To Sariputra, the Buddha said:

"Do not be afraid of those who argue differently, O Sariputra. Even though you know that they will do you much harm... Overcome all your dangers by pursuing the good. " (Sutta Nipata 965)

ブッダから弟子たちへ、ミニシリーズ舎利弗よ〜その1

舎利弗 (ｼｬｰﾘﾌﾟﾄﾗ:参照) は、ブッダの十大弟子の中の白眉とされている。彼は「智慧第一」とされ、ブッダに代わって説法をすることもあった。ブッダは舎利弗に向かってこう言った:

“舎利弗よ、異なった奉を論ずる輩(ともがら)を恐れてはならない。たとえ彼らがそなたに多くの危害を加えることがわかっていても…。そなたは善を追求することによって、もろもろの危難を克服せよ。“

(スッタ・ニパータ965)

#zen #mindfulness #buddhism #buddha #wisdom #philosophy #nature #art #Sariputra #foremost of the wise #Buddha's ten great disciples

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elronds-meleth-nin · 3 months ago

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Lemon Cakes

I just...I had an idea and I was emotional about S2E7 (beware spoilers!!) so I wrote a thing. We're not taking S2E8 into account, and we're assuming Brimby managed to escape from Eregion. Anyway, enjoy!

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Celebrimbor (RoP) x Half-Elven Healer!Reader

[A/N: This contains mild references/innuendo so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Fluff, angst, yearning, mentions of blood, mentions of injuries, minor descriptions of the same, spoilers for RoP S2E7, crying, kissing, both think their feelings are unrequited but they're very requited, nudity, mild references to male anatomy.

~*~

I was so wrapped up in my thoughts and fears that I didn't bother noting where I was going. All of Eregion was safe, so it didn't truly matter which pathway I took. However, it still would have been wise to do so.

Wisdom wasn't exactly the foremost concern in my mind at that moment. Court whispers, idle gossip, occupational politics...those had unfortunately taken center stage as I hurried through - was I in Eregion's gardens? Grudgingly, I supposed that the hedges were a dead giveaway that I'd somehow wandered into them without realizing. I'd been drawn to them countless times over the decades that I'd lived in the city. Ending up there should not have been a surprise.

My mind dwelled - foolishly, perhaps - upon my worries. How was I supposed to ignore what they were saying? It wasn't as if the other healers were trying particularly hard to hide the fact that they despised me for my heritage. After all, in their eyes a Peredhel - one of Half-elven descent - could never do as well as someone who possessed only Elven blood. I'd trained under several of the best healers known to Elvendom, but still that was not enough for the wagging tongues attached to judgmental minds.

All I wanted was to help heal the injured, but because of my status, I was relegated to organizing supplies and sweeping the floors of the infirmary. Had I been given the chance to prove my worth and demonstrate my training, I might have been able to advance further. As it stood, however, I only had a few of the common families of Eregion who trusted me enough to tend to their wounds and ailments.

Despite my situation, I made an effort never to complain. I took what opportunities were offered and made do. After all, if I had complained, not only would I have been seen as ungrateful, but I would've been proven to be, in the eyes of those who disliked me, even weaker than I was already perceived to be. I was allowed to remain in Elven territory. Should that not be enough for one lowly Peredhel?

That didn't stop me from feeling frustrated, though. Overhearing the last of the other healers' insidious comments after a long day was what broke my resolve. As I wandered through the maze of shrubbery, hot tears rolling down my cheeks, I hated that I'd let them bother me this much. Was I truly so weak-minded that I could not handle a few insults? Surely, I must be.

"Are you alright?" A warm but tentative voice called, and I tried to quickly wipe away my tears. Whoever had been kind enough to check on me didn't need to be bothered by a weepy Elleth.

"Yes, of course," I called as I posted on a faux smile and turned to find– "Lord Celebrimbor! Forgive me, hir-nin."

I began to drop into a low, deferential curtsy, but a gentle hand grasped my shoulder, stopping me.

"Please, my lady, there is nothing you have done which requires an apology." Having only seen him from a distance, I'd never spoken to Lord Celebrimbor before. I hadn't expected his voice to be so kind. I looked up, and he smiled at me.

I had never been looked at with such radiant warmth in all my life. Words utterly failed me. I should have said something - anything - but I could not seem to speak.

The light of the setting sun created a golden aura around Lord Celebrimbor's head, making him look like a heavenly being sent by the Valar. For a moment, I forgot all about my frustration and grief.

Those closest to him must scramble for even a few moments with him. How could they not? The greatest of the Elven smiths was also the most attractive Elf I'd ever met.

"There we are," he murmured as my eyes met his. "Would you perhaps like to join me?"

For the first time, I noticed he was holding a plate of lemon cakes. He'd likely come out to the gardens to relax with a sweet treat, only to find a distraught mess instead.

"O-Oh, thank you, my lord, but, truly, I do not wish to intrude," I stammered, but he let out a gentle laugh that made my heart twist in my chest.

"I will not force you, of course, but you should know that I would welcome your company," he said, glancing between myself and the lemon cakes. "Over the years, I have found that something sweet can help lift the spirit. Besides, I don't think I should eat all of these myself. My tailor would be quite cross if he had to replace my entire wardrobe."

I doubted a figure like his could ever be diminished by the insignificance of a few lemon cakes, but the need for friendly companionship was so great within me that I allowed myself to take his not-so-believable excuse at face value.

"Only if you're certain, my lord." His smile widened, and he eagerly led me to a bench nestled between a pair of pink flowering dogwood trees. Once we were seated, I finally took a moment to observe my companion. Wearing deep blue velvet robes, delicately embroidered with beaded leaves and vines, Lord Celebrimbor of Eregion sat beside me with all the gravitas and dignity of a king. His gaze was as soft as his touch had been upon my shoulder.

But he was a lord, and one of the most skilled Elven smiths in history. I was only a Peredhel. No matter how handsome I found him, common people like me did not end up with nobility.

Distracting me from my sobering thoughts, Lord Celebrimbor offered me one of the little iced cakes. I couldn't help but smile at the slices of candied lemon decorating the top.

"I must admit," he murmured as I gratefully took one, "that sweets are somewhat of a weakness of mine. The bakers whose establishments I frequent across the city have become rather aware of the fact that this variety in particular are my favorite. I fear they quite effectively know how to convince me to part with my coin."

That fit him quite well, in my opinion. The brightness of the citrus, the sweetness that tempered the flavor...nothing could have suited his personality more fully. Those cakes were light and sunny, as was he.

After we'd eaten in peace for a time, conversing quietly between ourselves about everything and nothing, Lord Celebrimbor looked at me curiously.

"If you don't wish to discuss it, I promise you are under no obligation to do so, but is there someone to whom I should speak in your defense?" I looked at him in askance, and he gave a small smile. "'Tis heinous behavior to bring such a lovely lady to tears. If there is someone who requires a stern speaking to, please consider my services in that department most humbly offered."

His gaze was so earnest and concerned that I had to avert my own lest I tear up again. None had ever offered to come to my defense before, opting instead to suggest that I grin and bear it, or that I develop a thicker skin as comments like that were to be expected for one of such low, unworthy birth.

"You are very kind, my lord, but, truly, you needn't trouble yourself." I barely dared to look back over at him after a moment's pause. "After all these years, I should have developed a thicker skin."

Celebrimbor wiped his fingers on his handkerchief and leaned a little closer to me, clearly engrossed.

"About what, my lady?"

I hesitated. It was perhaps vain, but I did not relish seeing the kindness in his eyes melt away when he realized with what sort of person he'd been conversing. But there was nothing for it. One did not simply ignore the Lord of Eregion when he asked you a question, especially not when he'd been kind enough to offer you food, comfort, and company. As much as I wanted to run, I remained seated.

"I am Half-elven, my lord," I nearly whispered, dropping my eyes to my lap where I was wringing my hands nervously. "My heritage is...somewhat of a common topic of discussion, especially with regards to my abilities."

"Abilities?" He asked gently, and I nodded my head.

"I am a healer, my lord. I was trained by some of the most skilled Elves I have had the fortune to know," I elaborated. "Truly, I do not mind helping where I can, and if it were a simple matter of my skills not being necessary, I would not be quite so frustrated, but..."

I trailed off, unsure of how to express the rest of my thoughts without sounding pathetic and childish.

"...But you've been overlooked because of who your parents were," he finished sounding somber. "My lady, I am truly sorry that you have had to endure such unjust treatment. None should behave so dishonorably, especially not here in Eregion. After all, in Lindon, our High King's herald is Half-elven. Ability has nothing to do with blood, as my people should be aware. I daresay you've likely heard some unworthy remarks, as well, for which I can only apologize. My people should know better."

I expected pity or disdain when I finally dared to look up at him again, but instead, I found only a reassuring smile and warm eyes skimming my face.

"Thank you, hir-nin, for your kindness. There was no need for you even to speak with me, much less be in my company, but I am so very grateful that you did."

Celebrimbor's smile widened, and he caught one of my hands between both of his. I couldn't help but marvel at how large they were, and how strong the calloused pads of his fingers felt. He must work quite diligently at his craft.

"It has been my honor, I assure you."

He paused, looking unsure as if considering whether he should say what was on his mind.

"Do you know, my lady, I have seen you walking in the gardens before. I should have wished you a good day or stopped to say at least 'good morning,' but I...well, I did not wish to intrude upon your peace," he said, and I looked at him in awe. "You always seem so relaxed when you are amongst nature, strolling through the starlight. Oft in the evenings, I take a break upon the balcony of my tower, and I have the loveliest view of the moonlight cascading down upon you."

He'd seen me before? I hadn't been aware that he knew of my existence, much less remarked upon the walks I took to clear my head.

"I wish I had mustered my courage earlier, however, since I cannot change my prior cowardice, I would like to focus instead upon the future. Might I have the honor of knowing you better?"

How could I have possibly refused? Why would I? That evening had been the start of a friendship that I'd never expected to have. Celebrimbor was always courteous and warm with me, allowing me to see his forge and discussing his work with me.

He never admitted to any involvement, but I suspected that he was the reason why barely a week after our initial conversation I was allowed - finally - to put away my broom in the healers' halls and begin treating patients. Even the cruel whispers and rumors died down to only the most occasional instance.

The Lord of Eregion shared my joy when my skills were begrudgingly praised, delighting especially when one of Lindon's visiting generals bore witness to my work. He was so pleased with how I'd patched up a small squad of his soldiers that I'd received a letter of thanks from the High King himself by royal messenger not long after the general had reported home safely.

Celebrimbor had been so excited for me that he'd sent his smiths and apprentices home early and opened a bottle of wine in celebration. That night, it had been particularly difficult to tamp down my growing admiration for the gorgeous Ellon who'd been so kind to me. Undoubtedly, he'd never feel more for me than friendship, but my heart did not seem to grasp that particular fact. When he finally walked me to my door and bid me sweet dreams, I knew for certain that I was doomed to love one who could never return my feelings. I was content, however, to simply be around him.

As the years passed, I slowly climbed the ranks of Eregion's healers, eventually earning the grudging respect of my peers, and the one person who had believed in me from the start seemed no less proud of me than he had from the beginning. It was not uncommon, of a free evening, to find me curled up in the uppermost room of Eregion's tower, discussing my lord's latest projects or ideas, or sharing herbal tea and something sweet from one of Eregion's bakers.

Eventually, after about a century's residence in Celebrimbor's city, and after having spent about three quarters of that as his friend, he summoned me to his tower during one of my shifts in the healers' halls. That, in itself, was not uncommon. He and his smiths were rather prone to accidents, especially given the nature of their work. Celebrimbor always asked for me personally, and as this time was no exception, I gathered a bag of medical supplies and hurried to see what might have happened.

The Lord of Eregion had been quite consumed by his latest project, and, though it was a rare occurrence, he had not discussed it once with me. I'd thought it strange that he was being so secretive, but after all, he was the Lord of Eregion first and foremost. He owed me no explanations. I thought nothing of it.

When I arrived, however, instead of seeing the forges blazing and the smiths all chattering about their work, I found only Lord Celebrimbor seated beside one of the windows, holding a letter in his hand. His forges were stone cold, and a sad, worried sort of expression played across his face.

"My lord?" I called quietly, hovering in the doorway. I felt as though I was intruding upon something private to which I ought not be a witness, but he had summoned me. I could not keep him waiting. At my quiet question, he looked up and plastered what I easily recognized as a forced smile across his lips. "You asked for me?"

"I did, mellon-nin," he said, gesturing for me to come closer. "Come, sit with me."

I did as he asked, setting my bag at my feet and looking at him curiously as I perched beside him on the divan.

"Are you hurt?" I could see no evidence of an injury, but he'd hidden them quite well before.

"Oh, no. No, forgive me. I hope I did not worry you," he said patting my arm gently. "Actually, this morning I received a rather important letter from High King Gil-Galad."

Silently, he held the folded parchment out to me, and I accepted it carefully. The King's seal was unmistakable upon the outer fold. My eyes skimmed the neat, swirling hand in which he'd penned his missive, and I had to reread it twice before the meaning fully sank in.

Wide-eyed I looked over at Celebrimbor whose smile now reached his eyes. He still looked rather sad, though.

"The High King wishes me to come to Lindon?" I asked feeling rather stunned. "But...why me?"

"From what I understand, he has heard many positive things about you and your skills as a healer from his soldiers and several of his friends," Celebrimbor said as I handed the letter back to him. "He wishes you to train a group of healers so that Lindon will be in good hands as Eregion is."

I was speechless. Only just managing to keep my jaw from dropping, I blinked uncomprehendingly a few times.

"You come highly recommended to him. In fact, he asked for my opinion, and I told him the truth: that you are one of the most skilled healers of your age that I have ever encountered. Your bedside manner puts your patients at ease, and you are able to tend their wounds calmly and skillfully," Celebrimbor continued, setting the letter aside and grasping my hands. "There is no one better for the position, I assure you. You will excel in Lindon as you have here."

Finally forcing my voice to work again, I found myself stammering.

"I...Did the King specify how long I would need to remain there?"

"He said it might take two years, perhaps three," he answered, and as if he could read my thoughts, Celebrimbor tilted my chin up and looked into my eyes. "Eregion will still be here when you return. In any case, it was not a request. It was an order. You shall need to leave in the morning."

"That soon?" I asked feeling nerves start to bubble up within me. I was excited for the opportunity, of course, and honored beyond words that Gil-Galad had asked for me personally, but...the thought of leaving Celebrimbor and my home at such short notice frightened me.

My lord's arms wrapped around me, drawing me into a tight embrace which I returned wholeheartedly. Burying my face against his shoulder, I savored the feeling of being so close to him. I would not get the opportunity again for a long while.

"Stay here with me tonight," he murmured against my scalp, and I nodded my head silently in agreement. The pair of us barely let go of each other, and when we awoke cuddled together on the divan with the morning light streaming across our sleepy faces and rumpled clothes, there were no sufficient words to express all that we felt at this forced parting.

The final glimpse of Eregion's gates as I passed through them atop my horse, flanked on either side by guards, felt terribly final.

Lord Celebrimbor and I had corresponded via messengers since my arrival at Lindon, but shortly after his new forge had been built, his letters had all but ceased. I tried not to let my heartbreak show, but the High King, who had quickly caught on that my feelings for Celebrimbor were slightly more than friendly, noticed immediately.

After one of my meetings with him discussing the progress of his healers-in-training, he called me to a halt as I prepared to take my leave. His herald - my new and very dear friend, Elrond - was still there, but courteously acting as though he could hear neither of our voices as he packed away a stack of parchment.

"My lady, I have no doubt that he is simply caught up in his work," Gil-Galad said as he offered me a softer look than I was accustomed to seeing upon his regal features. "Given how Lord Celebrimbor has spoken of you in the past, he would not give you up so frivolously."

If only I believed he was right. Oh, I did not believe Celebrimbor to be cruel enough to do so, by any stretch of the imagination. I did not, however, believe myself to be important enough to deserve his attention, even after so many years of friendship.

Instead of voicing such concerns, however, I merely thanked the King for his reassurance, bowed my head respectfully, and went back to my duties.

A few silent months later, however, Elrond sought me out in the healers' halls and led me to an urgent meeting with the King. Beside a small table stood High King Gil-Galad and one of his commanders.

"Thank you for coming, my lady," the King said ushering me to a seat. He dismissed his commander, and I looked at him in askance. "I would not normally trouble you, but I'm afraid this concerns you."

I glanced up at Elrond and found a concerned, slightly guilty expression on his face.

"My lady, we believe that Sauron is in Eregion," the King said, and I felt as though I'd been slapped. "His goal is to create rings of power similar to the trio we already have. Naturally, to do this he would need a skilled smith..."

He trailed off, allowing me to come to the conclusion myself, and when I did, my stomach churned.

"Celebrimbor," I breathed, and he nodded his head.

"We are gathering our armies now, preparing to defend the city against another threat, but as we do so, we will also attempt to remove Lord Celebrimbor from Sauron's influence." Much of what the King said afterward was a blur. When he came to my particular duties as a healer, I paid close attention, noting all the preparations which would need to be made rather rapidly.

Before Elrond could leave, I dragged him into a hug and made him promise to be safe. Not long after, the rest of Lindon's army departed, and I was filling my time with work to distract myself from my fears.

Waiting for the High King and his soldiers to return was tantamount to torture. I had friends who were risking their lives in this conflict, of course, but even more than that, the fate of Eregion terrified me. The city had been my home for nearly a century, and I was naturally concerned for its people, but I was even moreso for Celebrimbor.

If I dwelled for too long upon that distinction, my own selfishness closed around my throat like a vice, forcing conflicted tears to well up in my eyes. When I thought of his kindness and all that he'd done for me, however, I found it easy to blink them back. I could not find it within myself to feel guilty for my concern over one so gentle and warm.

So, I waited with the other healers, giving orders where I could for casualty preparations, ensuring all of the supplies were well-ordered and accessible to all of us. Our patients would have traversed a long road home, victory or no, and we did not wish to prolong their discomfort any more than was necessary.

Horns blared at the gates a few days later, and we rushed out to receive the soldiers, injured and exhausted as they doubtless were. Fear scraped away inside me when I contemplated how many might have been lost when I saw how somber the mood was.

Tamping down my personal feelings, I moved with the swarm of healers, pulling aside all who were injured and beginning to treat the most serious problems first. We'd been working for only a few hours when a hand landed on my shoulder.

Elrond, dirty, defeated, and utterly bereaved stood at my side.

"Mellon-nin," he breathed, and I wrapped my arms around him. He embraced me fiercely, silent sobs wracking him as he buried his face in the crook of my neck. "Eregion..."

My heart constricted at his tone.

"The city fell," he mourned, and I felt a rising sort of panic.

"Did any escape? The people? The soldiers?" I asked, hesitating before I added, "Lord Celebrimbor?"

His nod against my shoulder brought tears to my own eyes. When he pulled back, he took a deep breath to steady himself.

"The High King wishes to see you. Immediately. You will want to bring supplies with you," Elrond murmured, but I caught sight of blood-soaked fabric peeking out from beneath his armor. I waved one of my best healers over.

"Thank you, mellon-nin. I am glad beyond words to see you returned. I'll go to the King now, but you are not to leave until your injuries have been seen to. No arguments, darling herald."

He gave me a damp smile and acquiesced to my demand after stealing another quick hug.

Tucking into a bag everything that I would need to treat potential injuries inflicted upon the High King, I rushed down the corridors on the heels of the soldier sent to guide me. He would not have sent for me unless it was serious. Instead of finding the King inside, however, he was just outside the door speaking with one of his guards. Gil-Galad dismissed both guards almost as soon as I arrived.

"Thank you for coming with such haste," he said, and as I took him in, he looked dirty, bruised, but otherwise unharmed.

"I was told you required a healer, Your Grace."

"Not I, though I did send for you. Your patient is within. You needn't knock," he said gesturing to the door to his guest's rooms. I made to go inside, but he caught my elbow, drawing me to a gentle stop. "My lady, I should warn you...'tis Lord Celebrimbor."

My heart nearly beat out of my chest with worry.

"How bad is it?" I rasped, and the High King's expression softened.

"Breathe. It is not life-threatening." I nearly fainted with relief, sagging heavily against the wall and allowing my eyelids to flutter shut. Gil-Galad placed a comforting hand upon my shoulder. "He was being held and manipulated by Sauron. He was chained to his forge with unbreakable restraints. The only way he could escape was to...remove one of his thumbs."

My eyes snapped up to meet his in utter horror at what Celebrimbor had been forced to do simply to preserve his own life. Finally, I forced myself to draw a steadying breath.

"Is there any swelling? Inflammation?" I managed to ask, and the King shook his head.

"No, there have been no complications thus far," he said, but he hesitated a moment. "I called for you, not because of the severity of his injury, but because he needs you. He rested only fitfully in his saddle. He called out for you...wept in his sleep."

Me? He'd called out for me?

"You are the greatest comfort he could have, my lady. He may not yet know that he has your love, but he needs it nonetheless."

I straightened as heat spread across my face. Gil-Galad had known of my feelings for Eregion's lord for some time, but we'd never discussed it so openly before. Oh, certainly he'd eluded to the subject before, giving subtle hints and encouragement when our correspondence effectively ended, but this...

"Thank you, Your Grace," I said in the steadiest voice I could manage. I hoped he understood that I didn't just mean for the reassurance. When he bowed his head and took his leave, I faced the door, steeling my nerves as I pulled it open–

And my breath froze in my chest. There, kneeling upon the ground in the middle of the floor, staring out into the sunlit garden, was Lord Celebrimbor. He seemed not to notice my entry. Closing the door behind me, I walked slowly over to him. Seeming both penitent and relieved, Eregion's lord remained stationary as the golden light of day poured across his skin. Dirt, grime, and dried blood covered him, but he was still the loveliest sight I'd ever laid eyes upon.

"My lord?" I murmured quietly, setting aside my bag as I knelt beside him, and with a slow blink, he roused himself from whatever thoughts had so captivated him. Slowly, he turned to face me, and amidst the dirt on his face, there were tear tracks.

His lips parted in surprise when he saw me, and when I offered him a gentle smile, he lifted his uninjured hand, caressing my face as if he could not believe that I was truly there.

I leaned more solidly into his touch, closing my eyes against the rising emotions within me, and a broken sob of my name tore from his lips.

"Y-You're here. You're real," he croaked as he began to weep. I drew him into my arms without a moment's hesitation. Clutching at me as if I might disappear, Celebrimbor fell to pieces in my arms. I could do no more than whisper reassurances and press gentle kisses atop his head.

An Ellon as sweet as he did not deserve to feel as terrible as he clearly did. The urge to smite Sauron - to rend him in half with my bare hands - grew with every tremble of my lord's frame beneath my hands.

In fragments, he spilled the story to me, explaining all that had happened between himself and Sauron - including how he found fragments of one of his letters to me in the corner of his forge where the manipulative bastard had thrown it. Hushing Celebrimbor's subsequent apologies, I ran my fingers gently through his hair, trying to soothe him.

Eventually, his tears dried up, his breathing became steadier, and he lifted his head from my shoulder. Without thought, he cupped my face with both hands. A grimace twisted his features and he began to whisper shame-filled apologies as he pulled his injured hand away.

I caught his wrist carefully, and pressed my own fingertips gently against his lips to silence him. Celebrimbor looked stunned even as his cheeks reddened.

"Have you forgotten that I am a healer, my lord? You needn't apologize. I have seen and treated much worse." His shoulders dropped a small measure at my reassurance, and I turned my attention to his poor hand. At least the cut had been clean. It was already beginning to heal quite nicely, but it would still need a little help. "Truthfully, this is doing quite well. Might I make a suggestion?"

"Anything," he breathed, and the sincerity in his eyes tore at my heart.

"It would be wise for me to give this a preliminary wash, then cover it in a protective layer so that we can get the rest of you clean. Afterward, I should be able to patch you up much easier, but only if that is agreeable to you," I said, but he was already nodding his head.

"Yes. Yes, entirely agreeable," he said beginning to smile tentatively again. "I shall humbly submit to any treatment you think is necessary."

My breath hitched in my throat. How could he still be so trusting even after everything that had happened? I vowed to myself that I would never abuse his trust. I loved him too much to even consider such treachery.

"Let me fetch a basin and send for a bath to be drawn, and I shall be right back," I promised, and he drew a shaky breath as I stood.

I was only apart from him for a few moments, but when I returned with the basin of water and the supplies, he looked up at me like he'd never been happier to see me. The joy radiating from him even beneath the dirt and dried blood covering his skin relaxed a ball of tension that had resided in me since I heard about the threat to him and his city.

He was here. He was alright. And Sauron had not broken that which was most important: his spirit.

Setting everything beside us, I laid a towel across my lap and gently pulled his sleeve back past his elbow. Shuffling a little closer so that neither of us would strain ourselves in the reach, I began to clean his wound, as well as his arm so that he needn't get it wet during his bath.

As I worked, we fell into a companionable silence that was only broken when a few strands of hair fell into my face having escaped my hair ribbon. With a touch lighter than a smith should ever have, Celebrimbor moved them behind my ear, his large, warm fingertip brushing over the point.

He'd never done that before.

I looked up to thank him, and I was taken aback by how close we were to each other. My nose was barely an inch from his. I swallowed heavily, forcing my heart, racing though it was, to remain silent.

"Thank you, my lord," I whispered. His breath caressed my skin, and I forced myself to look back down and finish my task. He did not need to be bothered with a childish infatuation. Why, oh why was professional distance so difficult to maintain around him?

Wrapping a few protective layers over the freshly cleaned wound, I tied it off carefully. It was a bit looser than I would normally make a dressing, but it was only meant to last long enough for a bath.

A knock sounded at the door as I finished up, and that, thankfully, was the announcement that it was ready - apparently the speed was thanks to High King Gil-Galad's foresight. He'd ordered the water drawn and heated when he sent for me, to be delivered when I asked.

Once we were both on our feet, however, Lord Celebrimbor seemed to freeze, nerves playing across his features.

"Is something amiss? Are you in pain?" I asked, but he'd shown no sign of it thus far. He drew a deep breath, his cheeks turning a bright red.

"You needn't do this if you...if this causes you discomfort, I'm certain I could manage." He sounded so embarrassed. At my confused expression, however, he elaborated. "I do not wish to be improper. To force you to see...well, more of me than is decent."

The precious man. Was that all he was worried about?

"There is no need for shame," I murmured, "in my occupation, nudity is as common as leaves on trees. I shall touch you no more than is necessary, and the moment you wish for privacy, you need only tell me, and you shall have it."

Celebrimbor seemed relieved, which wasn't surprising since Sauron had been holding him captive. I doubted he'd been left alone for even a moment.

"I...do not wish to inconvenience you, but I...don't think I..." he stammered as he tried to compose his thoughts. "Washing might be difficult on my own. I should be able to do some myself, but the rest..."

Holding his good hand with my own, I gave him a gentle smile.

"It is no inconvenience, and you should not be made to feel guilty for daring to ask for help." After a brief hesitation he nodded his head.

"In that case, thank you, híril vuin. I would be glad of your assistance," he said allowing me to lead him to the bathroom.

Carefully, I untied the laces of his tunic, easing the fabric from his injured side and apologizing every time I even expected him to twitch in discomfort. His bare chest ought not to have surprised me; he was used to laboring in his forge. His defined musculature was well-earned. Once he was down to just his leggings, he blushed brightly, and he asked if I might step out while he got into the bath. He would still need help washing, so I would need to return, but I could easily grant him that.

"Thank you, my lady. I realize that it is silly for me to ask, but..." he shrugged and trailed off bashfully.

"It is not silly, especially if such a simple thing would help you feel comfortable. Oh, by the way, have you eaten today?"

"I believe so, but...several hours ago." Nodding quietly to myself, I formed a plan.

"Then, I shall have some food sent up. I'll just be in the other room, so when you're ready to wash, call for me," I ordered, and he nodded his head. "Do not be afraid to ask for help should you need it before then."

I expected him to protest, but he agreed easily, allowing me to pat his bare shoulder before I stepped out.

Locating the servant that Gil-Galad had assigned to us, I asked for a dinner tray, along with a plate of lemon cakes and a pot of herbal tea - a sweet combination that I knew Lord Celebrimbor favored.

Though the cakes would not heal his thumb, they were exactly what he needed to lift his spirits. Something familiar that might bring him some comfort.

Ducking back into the bathroom when he called for me, I saw that my patient now lay with his eyes closed and his head resting against the rim of the tub behind him. Injured hand aside, he looked like one of the Valar lounging after a battle - a beautiful, larger-than-life figure in resplendent repose. I almost hated to disturb him.

He'd clearly managed to clean his face and part of his upper body, but his hair and back needed a little attention, along with his right arm. As I approached, I did my best to keep from looking lower than his neck, staunchly ignoring the part of my mind that was too focused on how good he looked while wet.

I moved a stool beside the tub and picked up the washcloth that he'd draped over the rim. When I looked back up at him, Celebrimbor's eyes were already watching me as a small smile stole over his lips.

"May I touch you, mellon-nin?" I asked, keeping my voice low so as not to disturb the calm spell that seemed to have fallen over us both. Had his pupils blown wider, or was that my own wishful thinking?

"Of course, you may. You, of all people, need never ask," he murmured.

"If you want me to stop at any point, tell me, and I swear to you–"

Celebrimbor grasped my hand.

"I know, mîr-nin," he said leaning forward until his damp forehead could meet mine. "I trust you. You have never hurt me, nor would you ever do so."

Drawing in a shaky breath, I allowed my eyelids to flutter shut. He'd never called me his jewel before. Surely, that was a sign of his exhaustion. Celebrimbor always had become softer and more prone to displaying platonic affection when he'd worked for too long, ignoring his own growing fatigue. As much as I wished it had meant more, I knew it never would, but as our breath mingled in this stolen moment, I felt a flicker of hope.

When we eventually pulled far enough apart for me to help him wash up, I tried to focus on the task at hand, rather than the feeling of my lord's muscles beneath my soapy fingers. Although, admittedly, I did allow myself the indulgence of giving him a small scalp massage as I washed his hair, combing my fingertips through his locks until not a single tangle impeded their flow.

Eventually, the water lost its heat, and I fetched a bathrobe and some towels from the side, bringing them closer for his use.

"If you would like me to step out..." I began to offer, but Celebrimbor shook his head.

"No. Truly, I should not have sent you out before. I was...Well, I feel much more like myself, now," he said, "and I have never been afraid of you seeing all of me. You know more of me than any other."

With a gentle smile, I moved the stool I'd been sitting on back to its place in the corner, draped a towel over my arm, and offered my lord my hands. He didn't hesitate to take them. Once he was on his feet, I glanced down to help him step out of the tub and–

Where toned thighs met, I was not at all surprised to see that his endowment was as attractive as the rest of him. And suitably sized.

My eyes met his, and I had no doubt he could tell I'd looked. Professional distance aside, I couldn't help giving him a mischievous smile.

"As I said before: you have no reason to be ashamed," I murmured, hoping that he could hear that which I was too afraid to say - the opinion which I, a mere healer, had no right to hold.

In no time at all, Celebrimbor was dry and wrapped in a soft set of silk robes. We thought it best, as he would be recovering from his ordeal for the next few days at least, to forego higher maintenance garments.

"Lemon cakes?" Celebrimbor asked as he took a seat on the divan that I'd moved farther into the sunlight - he seemed to savor it before. He looked between me and the tray as if attempting to solve a problem. "They're my favorite, but...how did you...?"

I couldn't help but smile as I crushed some herbs in a mortar and pestle, adding in some oils to bind the mixture together.

"You mentioned it the day we met," I answered. That day was one of my most pleasant memories, despite how it had started. The scent of dogwood blossoms still lingered in my memory as sweetly as perfume, lulling me back to that day as gently as a spring breeze.

"But...that was decades ago. Why would you remember something so trivial?" He asked, and looked up at him. Disbelief colored his features along with something softer - something I'd never dared to imagine seeing upon his face.

"Because it's something about you," I admitted as my heart hammered in my chest. Dropping my gaze back to the herbs, I tried to act as though I was still completely focused on creating the poultice my lord's hand required instead of my poor racing heart. Dropping my voice to a whisper, I both hoped and did not hope that he would hear me. "Everything about you matters to me."

Carrying the mortar and pestle over once I'd gathered myself, I took a seat beside him and lifted his injured hand.

"Forgive me. This will sting for a moment, but the oils should soothe the pain away quite quickly," I stated. With all the care I could muster, I scooped out part of the light green substance and dabbed it ever-so-lightly upon his wound. He didn't even flinch as I worked.

Truly, I should not have been surprised. Celebrimbor was a smith. He was used to injuries, even if they were not on par with...well, this. I'd set a broken bone in the same hand merely a decade before I was sent to Lindon, and even then he'd only let out a slight hiss of pain. Pride stabbed through me. Of course he'd escaped Sauron. How could he not with such strength?

My vision blurred as I reached for the gauze and cloth that I was meant to be covering the wound with, but I didn't truly process that I was crying until Celebrimbor brushed my tears away with his uninjured hand.

"What are these tears? Am I not meant to be the one in pain?" He asked giving me the same sweet smile he'd offered the day we met.

Turning just far enough to kiss his wrist, I tried to reassure him.

"I'm not in pain. I am more relieved than I have been in all my life." That was far too close to an admission for my taste, but after coming a hair's breadth from losing him, did I really want to stay silent for much longer? Carefully, I began wrapping his hand, ensuring that it was not too loose or too tight.

When I tied off the end over his palm, however, it occurred to me that after all he'd been through, Celebrimbor did not need a declaration of that sort after such a harrowing experience. He just needed a friend to be there with him. As that was all I would likely ever be to him, I smiled up at him and asked him how it felt.

"Perfect," he murmured in a lower, slightly rougher voice than before. Had I caused him more pain? Was the mix of oils wrong?

No. No, breathe. I'd treated Lord Celebrimbor before, and though he was the embodiment of kindness, he would've told me if something felt wrong. Perhaps he was tired? Yes, that was it. His long journey must be catching up with him. I'd noted the same when he was in the bath, so surely that was the only explanation. Carefully, I wiped my hands clean.

"We should change this in the morning and again before you go to bed tomorrow," I murmured, forcing out the professional advice that was so familiar to me. "We'll carry on like that for a few days, and see how you are healing as time progresses."

"As my healer wishes, but..." Celebrimbor trailed off, pausing as if he was considering whether to speak or remain silent. "You're...not leaving yet, are you?"

There was something vulnerable and frightened in his eyes now, something fragile that I was quite sure might break if I did leave. Instead, I smiled at him and shook my head.

"No, my lord. I will stay here with you as long as you wish," I promised, and his shoulders sagged in relief. After setting aside my supplies, I poured his tea how I knew he preferred it, and in the peace of Lindon's golden sunlight, we chatted as we used to. Since our correspondence had been so rudely prevented by a certain dark force, we filled each other in on all that we'd missed.

Celebrimbor insisted during that time, that I help him eat those lemon cakes. By the time the sun had begun to set, we'd even sent for a second pot of tea.

Amidst a lull in the conversation, Celebrimbor covered my hands with his own. My eyes flicked up to his, only to find him looking at me as if I'd hung the very stars in the sky.

"Is something amiss, my lord?"

"I should have told you years ago," he whispered. "I was a coward for so long. I only made it back here - back to you - by the sheerest of luck. I very nearly lost my chance entirely."

"After all these years, 'coward' is not a word I would ever think to call you," I said, but he shook his head.

"But I am. I have been so afraid that I would ruin the rapport that we've built," he insisted. "I am a coward, because I could not tell you until it was very nearly too late. I think a part of me hoped that if I could create something worthwhile...something to change Middle Earth, I would be worthy of risking the admission."

"What do you mean, mellon-nin?"

"My tunic!" He blurted, and at the alarm in his features, I startled.

"I don't understand. What about it, my lord?"

"Has it been taken away to be cleaned yet?" He asked, and I shook my head.

"No, my lord, I haven't had the chance, yet. I can do so now," I said, and he let out a sigh of relief.

"Oh, thank the Valar! No, don't take it yet, but...would you bring it to me?" Without hesitation, I hurried over to the table where I'd laid his clothing and pulled out his rumpled tunic. The stained green velvet had clearly seen better days. I sat beside him once more, and he folded the top inside out. Just inside the neckline, there was a small, concealed pocket. From within it, he pulled a velvet drawstring bag.

Discarding the tunic carelessly on the floor beside him, he took a steadying breath and offered me the bag. I accepted it cautiously, in case whatever was inside was fragile.

"This was the only thing I wanted to sneak out of my forge. The only thing that really mattered besides the nine," he said sounding more nervous than he had for most of the night. Darting his eyes between the bag and my face, Celebrimbor's tongue wetted his lips. "I meant to give it to you before you came to Lindon, but...I wasn't sure if...well..."

He trailed off and swallowed nervously.

"I feel fortunate to even have the opportunity to tell you, late though I am," he murmured. "Please...open it."

Carefully loosening the drawstring, I tipped the contents of the bag gently into my palm. Gleaming silver inlaid with the purest, brightest diamonds I'd ever seen sparkled up at me. Setting the bag aside, I lifted what I thought at first was a necklace, but upon its unfurling, I realized it was something entirely different.

"My lord, this is much too beautiful for one of my station," I protested looking up at him in awe.

"Nonsense. A circlet of a static shape would not adapt well if you wanted to wear your hair in more than one style. Such an adornment was a pleasure to make...for the Lady of Eregion," the last part of his statement came out as a whisper, and I froze. "I-I realize that title would not be applicable now, because Eregion is no more, but...I still wish you to have this. E-Even if you do not feel the same affection for me that I do for you, I still believe it would complement your beauty–"

My lips met his, cutting off his rambling. How could he think I would not want him? After all this time, after a century, I would've thought that I'd failed to hide my feelings quite spectacularly on several occasions. Lingering embraces, rather obviously adoring looks, spending practically all my time with him in his study and his forge - I had not been subtle, mentally berating myself on countless occasions for overstepping my bounds.

"I love you," I blurted as soon as we separated. "Since the day we met, I have held no other in higher regard. But...my lord, I am only Half-elven. You deserve so much better than me."

"Ridiculous. Of all the people I have encountered, you have done something that no other has: you have filled a hole in my heart which I did not know existed before we met. You have given me more to look forward to than just my work and my duties," he said cupping my face so gently between his strong, calloused fingers. The softness of his smile, the lines adorning the outer corners of his eyes - everything about him was so open and vulnerable that despite all the decades of accumulated doubts and fears, I believed him. "Meleth, your light chases away even the darkest of shadows. I love you, and I would spend my life with none but you."

When his lips claimed my own, he tasted of citrus, sugar, and courage. The next morning when High King Gil-Galad asked me to report on Lord Celebrimbor's condition, he noted the gleaming silver atop my head with a conspiratorial smirk and ordered me back to my patient's side. For his health, of course. If he called out a quiet congratulatory wish as I left, well, who could comment upon the thoughts of kings?

~*~*~

Elvish Words:

mîr-nin = my jewel

híril vuin = beloved lady

hir-nin = my lord

meleth = love

~*~

Taglist:

@bigblissandlove1 @horta-in-charge @gandalfthepimp

#elronds-meleth-nin fic #celebrimbor x reader

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